His Constant Companion
by Bellatrix-Lestrange527
Summary: The Doctor is having a hard time coping after the tearful goodbye with his TARDIS. There was much he still wished to tell her. So much he wanted to say. Depressed and feeling more alone than ever, the Doctor starts to worry his companions. Determined to get her thief back on his feet, Sexy must find a way to communicate.


**His Constant Companion**

**A/N: **Disclaimer! I don't own anything Doctor Who related. I only own the plot for my entertainment. I don't make any money off of this story. Read and enjoy!

I love Doctor Who but have never felt confident writing a story for it. So, I decided to give it a shot and see what people think. If you all like it, I will continue. Let me know!

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It had been approximately two months since the events on House. Of course, it is hard to determine the exact passage of time when travelling across the universe. But to Amy, it felt like a lifetime. The Doctor continued his adventures and shenanigans, but pursued them with less enthusiasm and vigor. Amy and Rory saw easily through his typical happy façade. It was obvious he was still grieving. To have the brief opportunity to talk to his TARDIS, to communicate with his one true companion, and then to have that ripped away so quickly affected him deeply. The lovably awkward man with bowties and fezzes grieved for the loss of communication with his TARDIS as one grieves the death of a loved one. To the Doctor, it was as if his Sexy had died.

Night after night he would send Amy off to bed with a "Get to sleep Pond," or a "Goodnight Amelia". But he didn't' know she could hear him weep in the control room when he thought she was asleep. He didn't know that she lingered in the halls and cried with him. She cried _for_ him…because she could do nothing to ease his pain. She hated to see her best friend this way. And tonight was no different. The Doctor sobbed quietly as he tinkered underneath the console. Around the corner, Amy sat on the floor of the TARDIS crying silently. With a shuddered breath, she stood and placed her hand lovingly against the wall.

"Please help him. He can't go on like this forever." She whispered before slipping off into her room to join her husband.

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The Doctor remained underneath the TARDIS console for hours more, fixing bits here and there to the soothing hum of the engine. His sobs had eased to quiet tears and an occasional sniffle. With a heavy sigh and a loving pat, the Doctor stood and prepared to make his way to his own bedroom when the TARDIS gave a great shudder. The machine then lurched and sent the Doctor to the ground as the lights flickered and died completely, leaving him in darkness.

"What's the matter, Sexy? I didn't do any major alterations tonight." He asked softly. But as usual, she gave him no reply.

He sucked his teeth in brief annoyance before beginning to flip switches and twist knobs blindly. But his efforts were brief. The light to the hall blinked and caught his attention. The Doctor halted his ministrations and looked questioningly down the dark hallway. The light at the entrance once again came to life before fading, just as the next light ahead illuminated.

The Doctor stepped forward tentatively, "Are you trying to lead me somewhere old girl?"

The seemingly young man was rewarded with a low hum and a lazy blink of the next proceeding light. He shrugged and confidently began to follow the lights down passageway after passageway, turn after turn, until he felt like he had been walking for hours. Finally, the lights stopped at a long forgotten and unused corridor in front of a dark blue wooden door. It reminded him of the TARDIS doors.

"I don't remember this room." He muttered, grasping the rusted and dusty handle. "Well old girl, I guess this will be another adventure!"

With a lopsided grin, he turned the knob and pushed the door forward. The hinges creaked in protest as he hesitantly stepped in and peered into the room. It was dark. The air was stale and thick with dust that tickled his nose. He couldn't make out much except vague black shapes. The best he could figure was that it was another old control room.

Without warning, a blinding light erupted from the open desktop of the console. The Doctor quickly lifted his arm to shield his eyes. When the light finally faded, it seemed to rain down as a beautiful golden mist. He started suddenly as the glow of the particles illuminated a body; a _human_ body lying underneath the desktop. The Doctor rushed forward and knelt next to it. It was a woman, naked, except for a long royal blue scarf of silk that wove around her body, covering her modesty. She was laying on her side with her back to him. A dark mass of thick, silky curls obscured her face.

He carefully reached forward and turned her over, brushing the hair out of the way to get a better look at her. When he took in her features, he withdrew his hand as if he had been burned by a hot stove. It was the body of Idris.

…Only she was different. The lines of age and hard times had been erased from the corners of her eyes and mouth. And the wild, untamed nest of frizzy curls was now smooth and formed perfect ringlets that splayed out around her like a halo.

"Bloody hell!" he whispered.

The Doctor gathered his wits and began to focus. He leaned forward and placed his head on her chest, listening and feeling for any sign of life: movement, a breath, a heartbeat, anything! He did not see the golden mist collecting and rushing into the body's nose and slightly parted mouth. Not knowing why, the Doctor began the motions of human CPR. He held her nose and placed his mouth over hers and forced a puff of air inter her lungs.

The effect was immediate. The woman beneath him gasped under his lips as her back arched and her chest heaved. Her eyes snapped open and glowed the vibrant gold of the TARDIS matrix. As he started to pull back, she forcefully wrapped her arms around his neck, locking him in place. The pain was sudden. It felt almost as if a thousand burning knives were ripping through his body. He would later compare it to sitting through all twelve regenerations in a row. But as soon as it started, it stopped. The woman loosened her grip and fell back to the floor. As he pulled away, he noticed a luminescent blue smoke escape from his lips and hang in the air. It seemed to dance seductively with the particles of the gold mist before being pulled into the mouth of the woman. The Doctor helplessly watched as she writhed on the ground in obvious pain before falling unconscious. The golden mist then rushed forward and was drawn into his own body as if he had sucked it through a straw. A pleasant warmth began to take over. It radiated from his chest to his other extremities. The doctor inspected himself warily and with much confusion as he began to glow. But the light and the heat were transient. As it faded, the Doctor and the unconscious women beside him were once again plunged into darkness.

"Well, this is new."

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**A/N: **Alright, what do you guys think so far? Is it worth pursuing or should I just let the normal writers stick to writing episodes?


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